Taking Control
by snappleapple518
Summary: After having a fight with Jake, Sam ends up going home, exploding a cake, and also exploding some unforseen romance. SAKE: what else?


_**Disclaimer**: I do not own Phantom Stallion, but I would be honored if I did._

_**Author's** **note**: This is based story on an experience that I had one day in the kitchen. What can I say… I'm a bit absentminded._

_--_

_**Taking Control**_

Samantha Forster walked down the cement sidewalk next to the school, and sat down on a wooden bench to wait for Ryan to pick her up. Sam hadn't wanted to go on the bus, because there were so many annoying kids on there, and it always smelled really awful every time she rode it. She'd told Ryan this and he said, since they lived so close together, that'd he'd be glad to give her a lift. Anything's better than the bus.

Unfortunately Ryan wasn't there yet, so Sam had been sitting on the bench for five minutes or so when he arrived. But not the he she was expecting.

"Hey, Jake." She said as he walked by. He turned around as if he hadn't seen her sitting there. Even though she knew he had. Jake Ely… she never knew quite what to think about him.

"Hey, Brat." He said, sitting down next to her, as if he hadn't said anything even remotely annoying. She scowled at him, but she was so used to being called by that particular nickname that it didn't really faze her anymore. He was wearing his green running shorts, so she figured he was about to go out for a jog. In his senior year Jake had decided to join the cross country team, and become more involved in the school, so that he'd look more "well-rounded" on his college resume. He'd also cut his dark hair shorter. He said it would help him run faster. Sam liked his old hair better. He'd had long hair since he was a little kid, and that was how she always thought of him.

Jake just sat there and didn't say anything. But then again… what's new?

"So, what are you still doing here? Don't you usually go right home after school?" she asked. His eyes flickered down to his shorts, and he mumbled that he was going running.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, speaking only slightly louder, "Did you miss your bus? I can take you home, if you need me to." He offered, once again acting as if he was her father. She didn't need another father; she already had an overprotective one at home.

"Too late. Ryan said he'd give me a lift home." She told him, knowing full well that this would make him nervous. For some reason that Sam couldn't quite figure out, Jake had never liked Ryan. Sam thought it was just because Ryan had been born with money, and he could have anything he wanted, and Jake's family had to work hard for what they had. Still, Sam didn't think this was any reason to decide that you weren't going to like someone. She had taken a chance and found out that Ryan was a pretty nice guy, despite his rotten family.

Jake raised his eyebrows, and shook his head as if she'd made a big mistake.

"Now, why did you have to go do a thing like that?" he asked, once again sounding like he was a forty-seven year old man, instead of seventeen. People always said Jake was wise beyond his years… Sam just thought he was nosy and overprotective beyond his years.

"What do you mean a thing like that?" she asked, giving him the benefit of the doubt. He rolled his eyes.

"Sam, you know that if you need a ride home, you can always ask me. It's not a big deal. You don't need to ask Ryan Slocum. He's not a nice kid." He told her. Sam felt her blood began to boil. All this fatherly-figure talk was beginning to really make her angry. Jake had that effect on her sometimes. Okay, make that most of the time.

"You're not my father… so don't try to act like you are! And… anyways, how would you know!?" Sam yelled, feeling fed up with his haughty attitude, "You wouldn't! Because you've never taken the time to get to know him. The least you could do is be civil. What has he ever done to you? Nothing! That's what! You know what, Jake Ely; you are the most controlling, stubborn, unchangeable male on the face of the planet!" Sam shouted, and began to storm away across the parking lot.

Jake grabbed her arm, to stop her from going, but fortunately Ryan Slocum walked past at the moment, and Jake didn't want to look as if he was doing something questionable with Sam, so he let her go.

"Oh, look!" Sam exclaimed, "There's my ride!" she shouted angrily and stalked away from Jake with an enraged look on her face.

Jake threw himself down on the bench and scowled bitterly in Ryan's direction.

"For goodness, sake." Jake muttered, "we get in enough arguments as it is, without me starting more of em'."

--

Sam sat in Ryan's car and didn't say a word. What was wrong with Jake Ely? Did he have nothing better to do than ruin her day? Because that was precisely what he'd just done. She couldn't believe she was even friends with him! All they ever did was fight.

"So, what was wrong with Jake, today? You and Ely get in a fight?" Ryan asked, calling Jake, as many boys so did, by his last name.

"Jake Ely is the most stubborn male- no, make that person- that I have ever met… in my entire life." She said, still seething, but trying to keep her voice under control. Ryan looked at her astonished.

"Wow…" he whistled, coming off as the cowboy he wasn't, "it must have been some fight… I thought you and Jake were pals." he questioned raising his eyebrows. Sam scoffed, but she knew what he'd said was true.

"We-" she stumbled over the words, "well we are." She nodded her head, and then continued, "But sometimes I can't figure out why we are. It seems like the only reason we're friends is because it's what's expected. We've been friends practically since we were born… actually, friends isn't the way I'd describe it. He's more like my surrogate brother." Ryan nodded his head sympathetically.

"I get what you mean… I sure wouldn't want Jake for a brother. He seems really judgmental… kind of nasty most of the time too." He said, looking over to the passenger side of the car. And suddenly Sam found herself getting mad.

But not at Jake this time.

This time she was mad at Ryan. He had no right to be talking about Jake that way. Sure… everything he said was kind of true, but Jake was her friend and she wasn't just going to stand idly by while people said mean things about him!

What was wrong with her? She'd just said those same mean things about him…

But fortunately before she was able to voice any of those thoughts Ryan had pulled up in front of her house, and pulled the car to a stop.

Sam jumped up, said a quick thank you and rushed into the house before she started to scream. If she would have looked back she would have seen Ryan sat there for a moment with a slightly shocked expression on his face, and then he smiled.

"I don't think I'll ever understand Jake and Sam. Denial, Denial…" he shook his head and pulled away from the ranch with a goofy grin on his face.

--

Meanwhile Sam ran into the house, her mind boiling with angry thoughts.

What was her problem? She had to calm down before she did something drastic. And knowing Sam, she would do something drastic. Mostly likely something drastic in which she would end up hurting herself and then Jake would blame it on himself even thought it wasn't his fault. She better not. It certainly wouldn't help the situation.

Sam ran over to the stove, on which sat a cake. Gram must have made it while Sam had been at school.

"Gram!" she called upstairs, but there was no reply. She tried once more, but there was only silence. She looked around the kitchen a little more, and then found a note lying upside down on the counter.

_Samantha,_

_I went to talk to Bryanna at work. I'll probably stop by and get something to eat in town. Don't you dare touch that cake, missy. Or you'll be having a very angry grandmother coming home to you. I'll mostly likely be home around five or five-thirty. There are some sandwiches in the fridge. Help yourself._

_Love,_

_Gram_

Sam groaned. No cake. Her day had just gotten a little bit worse. She grabbed the teapot, filled it with water, and plunked down at the kitchen table to read one of her favorite horse magazines that had just come in the mail today. She had nothing better to do.

She had been reading for just a little while, when she heard a large explosion of shattering glass. Something was burning.

She craned her head upward and saw the cake had in fact exploded. The glass pan had flown all over the room, having somehow been smashed into a million little pieces. She stood up to go investigate.

She looked closer at the stove and saw that she'd accidentally turned the heat on under the glass pan.

"Drat!" she exclaimed just as the phone began to ring. "What am I going to do now!?" she shouted to no one but herself, as she ran over to the phone to check the caller-ID. Ely, Luke.

"Double Drat!" she shouted even louder. What was that jerk calling for? She however, couldn't seem to resist picking up the phone.

"Hello!" she shouted, not quite realizing that she was still shouting.

"Sam?" asked the one voice that she didn't want to hear the most at the moment.

"What?" she snarled angrily.

"Why are you yelling?" he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Sam growled again.

"I just exploded some stupid cake, and it's all over the kitchen, and- ow!" she shouted and dropped the phone as she stepped on a piece of glass. As she lay on the floor she began to cry, which was very unlike her, and Jake on the other line begun to get very worried.

"Sam?" he asked, "Sam, you are you okay? What's going on over there? Did you say something exploded?" She enjoyed the worry in his voice, for the first time in a long while.

"A cake, stupid!" she shouted through her tears, "And a ridiculous glass pan! I accidentally turned on the wrong burner. It's all over the place. I just stepped on a piece of it." She told him, and then wanted to cover her mouth. She didn't want him to think that he had to protect her. But the sobs kept coming as she held her foot, trying to make the pain go away.

"I'm coming over." He told her, and she immediately began to protest. She didn't need Jake Ely complicating further what was already an all too complicated situation to begin with.

"No! You! Are! Not!" she shouted louder than any of the previous shouts. Still he didn't sound like he was going to change his mind.

"I'm coming over there Samantha. You sound like a wreck." He told her.

"No, you're not! And I am not! And don't call me that!" she shouted into the phone, that was lying on the floor amid the cake and shards of glass.

But he'd already hung up.

"Triple drat!" she shouted into the silence that was filled with only her painful sobs.

--

Jake arrived before Gram, and Sam was almost grateful for his help. But almost is the key word. He barged in through the door, without knocking. But then again… what's new? Jake Ely had never been the star example of politeness.

"Sam!" he exclaimed as he saw her lying there with a bit of blood on the floor. She looked up at him and scowled.

"I coulda gotten up if I woulda wanted to. But I don't. So just let me stay down here." She told him, which was completely untrue. She couldn't have gotten up off the floor if someone had been trying to pay her a thousand dollars to do it… but she wasn't going to let snotty Jake Ely know that.

"You little liar." He said, as he hoisted her off the floor, but in a surprisingly gentle way. She fell back into his arms suddenly feeling weak. Unfortunately she didn't stay in his arms for long; because he dumped her into the chair where she was forced to keep herself sitting upward- a feat which was actually surprisingly difficult at that moment.

"Are you okay?" he asked. She nodded, but a tear slipped down her face. He tried to look sympathetic, but it was clear that her tears scared him to death. She smiled a little bit.

"What?" he asked, somewhat roughly this time.

"It scares you when people cry, doesn't it?" she asked. He began to shake his head, but than he gave in.

"Yeah, kind of." He admitted.

"Some big, tough cowboy you are." She said, sarcastically, not being very kind to her heroic rescuer. He rolled his eyes.

"Some big, tough cowgirl you are. I may be scared of the tears, but you're the sitting there crying them." He pointed out, and she realized he was right.

"Shut up." She told him, and he did. But only for a moment as he sat down beside her at the kitchen table.

"Want me to take a look at that leg for you?" he asked, but she shook her head.

"I am not letting you touch my leg." She told him, seriously, though gritting her teeth at the pain. "Under penalty of death, are you touching my leg." Jake rolled his eyes again.

"Come on, Sam. You've got to get that piece of glass out of there. Or it's probably going to get infected. Knowing you, something worse. Do you want it to get infected?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"You are not touching my leg. I'd rather die." She told him. "And getting an infection is much better than dying. So that's my choice." She told him, shooting him a serious glare.

"Sam…" he said looking just as serious as he walked towards her, "I'm going to have to get that thing out of your leg. It might hurt, but you don't have to be scared. It'll all be over in a second." He told her.

"NO!" she shouted, in a high pitched voice that stopped Jake in his tracks. She shook her head vigorously. "I'll get it out." She told him, and proceeded to do so.

After a few moments she held up the piece of glass with her left hand.

"See… you just had to step back for a second and stop being such a controlling freak. I'd have gotten it out on my own." She told him with a triumphant smile.

"Controlling freak?" he asked, sounding offended, "I am not." He proclaimed. She rolled her eyes.

"You so are." She said simply. He started to shake his head, but then he spoke,

"Okay, so I might be a little-" he began to say, but she interrupted him,

"A little? You are the king of controllers, you are the president of the controllers, you are a dictator." She told him, trying to sound convincing. Unfortunately he wasn't extremely convinced.

"Okay," he admitted, "I may be slightly protective, but that's only because you are always getting yourself into trouble. So what am I supposed to do? Just let you get yourself killed?" he asked.

"Yes." She said bluntly.

"Sam…" he warned.

"Okay, so you might save me occasionally, but I never asked for you help and I could have gotten out of all those situations on my own. I don't _need _your help." She told him.

"No, you don't." he said.

"What?" she asked confused, not expecting him to give up his standpoint so easily.

"You _don't _need my help. But I'm going to give it to you anyways." He told her.

"See what I mean? You are controlling." Sam told him.

"Maybe…" he said, looking down at the tiled floor, suddenly feeling slightly shy.

There was silence for a moment, and then he looked up at her again. At first she thought he was going to say something important, but what came out of his mouth was particularly important at all.

"We should clean up this mess." He told her. Sam groaned.

"See… you're bossing me around again!" she exclaimed, but she was only joking around.

"Sam-" he began.

"I'm kidding, Jake. I know we have to get all this garbage off the floor. So, let's get at it."

--

After about only five minutes the cake was all picked up, and Gram still hadn't come home.

"How's your foot?" he asked. She raised it up in his face as if to show him that it was fine. Unfortunately a bit of blood dropped to the floor.

"Okay, Sam. Seriously, I'm going to go get you a band-aid, and you're going to put it on your foot." He told her.

"Controlling!" she yelled in a sing-song voice, but he had already dashed up the stairs to get the bandage. She sighed, but then realized that he was actually being really nice this time. She had nothing to complain about as of yet.

She had been sitting in the chair for only a minute when he appeared at the top of the stairs loaded with a full-blown first aid kit that Gram must have put together at some point.

"Jake…" she sighed, "All I need is a band-aid, not a trip to the emergency room." She told him.

"Sit down." He instructed, and amazingly she did without making any dictator jokes. He smiled.

"Thank you. Now, do you want to put this on yourself, or should I put it on?" he asked.

"You can put it on." She said surprising herself, maybe even more than she surprised Jake. His eyes widened for a moment, but he tried to look as if this was a normal thing.

"Okay, lift up your leg, and put it in my hand." He told her, and she did, feeling amazingly docile at the moment. But once her leg was in his hand she began to laugh uncontrollably.

"What?" he asked, snapping his head up to look at her, instead of her foot.

"It just tickles." She told him. He smiled; looking right into her eyes but then feeling shy he looked down at her foot and applied the bandage. He lifted her foot, and set it gently on the hard floor, and somehow she felt disappointed that the moment was over.

"Well…" she said quietly, suddenly feeling awkward herself, "you should probably head home. Your dad's probably looking for you." She told him. He laughed, which was quite unlike himself.

"Now, it's you being the dictator." He said with a chuckle. She smiled, but didn't look into his eyes. She stood up to show him to the door, but as he was about to walk out, he spun around and started kissing her gently on the mouth.

And she didn't fight it. There she was- kissing her best friend- and she didn't fight it. But when Sam broke away, and looked up at Jake confused, she asked:

"Why?"

"All I know is I like you. I always have." He told her in a rushed voice, sounding shy again, which was what she was accustomed to.

"But, why, now?" she asked, her head still whirring from the moment.

"Just taking control." He said, and he kissed her once more, for a brief moment, and then he pulled away, and began to walk toward his car.

His last words echoed through her mind.

_Just taking control…_

And for once she was glad he had.

--

_Okay, so what did you think? Yeah, I think it started to drag towards the end there, but whatever. By the way, this is a one-shot, and there will be none more coming. So don't even try to convince me, that there should be. Because I already have this other fic I'm working on and it's much too much to work on two at a time. I've found that if you work on a two at a time you usually end up not finishing one. So one at a time is good. I said that this fic is based on an experience I had in the kitchen. I just got to say that I'm only talking the exploding a cake thing, not the kissing Jake thing. Though I'm sure that would be very nice, ha-ha. Okay, you know the drill, Read and Review!_

_Thanks again for reading,_

_Snappleapple518_


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